No matter how you try to make plane travel stress free, it never is. We had no mishaps, other than Mick leaving behind his reading glasses, but it was still stressful because of immigration.
American immigration agents are always either smart asses or jerks. Do they go to special school for this? After a day of travel neither is better than the other.
Having made it through immigration and customs in Seattle, we rechecked our bags, got our seat assignments and headed to the terminal. You know Alaska is no longer your home when you do not encounter anyone you know waiting at the gate. I knew no one.
Anchorage has changed a lot since I was here last but I’m pleased to say the mountains are still stunning and nothing makes me feel more at home.
Mom and Dad picked us up and drove to their house. We were met by the motor home aka land yacht was parked across the drive. Tomorrow my family is driving to Fairbanks for the week to support my nephews in a state soccer tournament. Can’t say I’m looking forward to the 358 mile drive but being in the motor home is a little like taking the train. You can sleep, eat, make a cuppa, read, watch a movie and enjoy the scenery.